


Gilded Retrieval

by SuperNerd92



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Gen, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Spoilers, a totally platonic ending... unless?, murderhobo Felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperNerd92/pseuds/SuperNerd92
Summary: Inspired by Felix's depressing epilogue for a non-Blue Lions route - "Even after the war's end, skirmishes continued to break out across Fódlan. Bored and restless in his capacity as Duke Fraldarius, Felix abandoned his title, jumping at the opportunity to wield a sword again. Little is known of his whereabouts thereafter, but even many years later, soldiers continued to whisper rumors of a mysterious man able to deal swift death to scores of enemies."What happens when Felix comes across Dedue, who survived the battle at Enbarr, during the course of his wanderings?





	Gilded Retrieval

The letter bore the seal of the new Queen of Fodlan, a mishmash coat of arms that united old Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester symbols with the victorious army’s Crest of Flames. Designing the new emblem had been smooth and simple, but the reality of forcing so many squabbling nobles under one banner was another matter, particularly since destroying their underground home had not totally wiped out ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark.’ They caused trouble across Fodlan, particularly in the territories that had once been the Empire, where their claws had sunk so deep that it was difficult to tell just how many nobles had been replaced. 

At least it kept Felix busy. He’d traveled across much of Adrestia these past months, sword in hand, cutting through those isolated pockets of resistance that Byleth deemed worthy of his talents. Claude’s dream of a new world still required a skilled sword, a mercenary willing to fight and kill without hesitation. 

Felix cut through the dreamers’ seal and rolled the parchment out on the small table, a simple wooden affair that groaned under the weight of his twin swords. He could’ve had any room in the castle - any rank in the new army - but refused them all. To her credit, the Queen knew not to push. She said little, but understood better than most why he’d turned down his rightful title as Duke Fraldauris and everything else that Claude had tried to foist upon him. 

He scanned the orders, expecting another journey to some corner of the former Empire, but no. This time would be different. A lord in the western Kingdom and some scattered remnants of the destroyed western Church had banded together and were raising some sort of militia. Clearly their mysterious foe was trying a different tactic. 

Byleth’s message was short and pointed, lacking any of the flowery language one might expect from a monarch right up until the royal seal at the bottom of the letter, but she’d allowed herself a single unnecessary sentence. _ Let us know if you would prefer another assignment. _

Felix sneered and crumpled the letter in a single fist. Did she think him incapable of returning to the land he’d once called home? Assume he was so weak, so bent by regrets, that he couldn’t get the job done? 

He grabbed his sword belt and buckled the weapons around his waist. No need to bother with a reply. As usual, Queen would receive his answer when word reached her that he’d wiped her enemies out. 

* * *

Their mysterious foe evidently had a twisted sense of humor. Felix caught up to the rebels on the very same ground that had hosted his very first battle. The same place where the Boar Prince had shown his true colors, mercilessly crushing a revolt, unleashing his mad rage, reveling in the slaughter.

Dimitri, a monster wearing the mask of a human, not so unlike ‘Those Who Slithered.’ 

And perhaps, not so unlike Felix himself. Now it was his turn to crush a revolt, sword in each hand, fighting until both blades ran red and his cloak was spattered with blood. 

The Queen’s detachment of soldiers gave him a wide berth once the battle was over. He could hear the whispers, feel their eyes watching him with a mixture of awe and fear. Yes, this _ was _how the Boar must have felt. When the dust settled, and Dimitri tried to pretend he was a human once more, but those closest to him knew better.

“Go back to the monastery,” Felix ordered their captain, voice flat. He drew his bloodstained cloak tighter around his shoulders and walked away without another word.

* * *

His feet, walking on their accord, lead him north and east, until he stood at the outskirts of an enormous field of graves. 

The burial ground of the Faerghus royal family and the leading noblemen. Rodrigue must have been so excited when Glenn had earned his place here. Perhaps almost as happy as when he’d joined his oldest son, by right of his vain effort to keep the Boar alive during the slaughter that was Gronder Field. 

Felix had never been to this place, never had the slightest desire to flagellate himself by shedding tears and flower petals over his brother’s ostentatious gravestone, bearing the Faerghus coat of arms, as if it were some great and noble thing to be killed and to be laid to rest here. 

The Boar’s tomb stood in the center of the field, the latest and last in a line of kings stretching back to the mythical Loog. And out in front of it stood a huge man, fully armored, hand resting on the shaft of a great axe. He stood as still as if he’d been carved from stone, but Dedue’s eyes followed Felix as he approached. 

“They say you hacked Edelgard’s head from her shoulders with her corpse still warm and carried it up here,” Felix sneered. “Do you think it helped the Boar rest easier in his grave? His damned revenge, finally sated.”

“No,” the man of Duscur said, voice quiet and solemn. “But his oath was my oath, and now it is done.” 

“Of course it is, he’s _ dead _ . He can’t be pleased or disappointed with you ever again. Why are you standing here guarding his bones? What the _ hell _would it matter if some bandit came along and dug them from the ground?” Felix snarled at the larger man.

“It is my duty.” 

“_Fuck _ your duty. Do you think he’d want you to stand here the rest of your life? Did he save a man in Duscur, or did he save a dog, able to do nothing but sit and waste away at his master’s grave? The dead are dead, they don’t _ get _to control your life!”

“If you believe that, then why are you letting them control yours?” Dedue asked.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Felix growled. 

“I spoke to the others before I left Enbarr. Our former classmates. You pretend you hated His Highness, but really, you hate yourself for leaving him. You’re stronger than me,” Dedue stated, without rancor, simply a man reciting a fact. “You bear a Hero’s Relic. If you’d been there at Gronder Field, you could have fought with all your skill and saved his life.” 

Felix said nothing. Nor could he continue to match Dedue’s gaze. He jerked his eyes away, blinking at the tomb through angry tears.

“You are wrong,” Dedue said, his calm tone now weighed down by a grief so deep that it suffused every word. “His Highness was mad with hatred. His Crest gave him the strength of a dozen men. He could not be reasoned with, and the two of us together could not have held him back when he saw Edelgard retreating.” 

His armor clanked as he shifted and laid his large hand on Felix’s shaking shoulders. “I will not stand here forever. When the fighting is truly over, when that secret enemy is defeated and none live to desecrate his resting place, I will return to Duscur. I will not throw my life away for him. I will _ live _for him. I will rebuild my home and ensure its peaceful relations with this new Fodlan, the way he wanted.” 

“Don’t touch me,” Felix mumbled, but if Dedue heard him, he didn’t obey. 

“When the fighting ends and you can set down your sword, come with me. His Highness… Dimitri… walked a lonely, doomed path. Wherever he is now, he would not want either of us to do the same.” 

Felix drew an arm across his face and exhaled a shuddering breath. “I promise you nothing. _ If _I survive all the fighting that’s to come, perhaps I’ll return.” 

“I would like that.” 

The two stood in silence then, both regarding the tomb, as the cold wind whistled through the graveyard.


End file.
